


these lines of lighting mean we're never alone

by citadelofswords



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, COUNTER/Weight - Freeform, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Other, Sharing a Bed, au where cass wasn't exiled when euanthe recovered and ted left september with mako back in the day, me @ them: you have known each other for TWO!!! DAYS!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-06 00:18:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citadelofswords/pseuds/citadelofswords
Summary: The thing is Mako does trust Ted. Or else he would have told Ted to not even bother when he’d told Mako he could “hook him up with a SOLID craigslist ad, my dude, my friend.”(or, Mako gets hired to fake date an Apostolosian scion, goes to fuck shit up, and falls into a romcom instead.)





	these lines of lighting mean we're never alone

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY THANKSGIVING YOU CAN'T TELL ME APOSTOLOS OF ALL PLACES DOESN'T HAVE A HOLIDAY THAT CELEBRATES COLONIALISM AND GENOCIDE
> 
> we can all blame the tumblrheads discord for this one, thanks to them for loaning me fish names and for that one time we talked about this prompt and encouraged me to write it. especially thanks to rachel for leaving the best comments on gdocs always. 
> 
> @ fatt friends i'm SO sorry i'm sure i butchered your alien fish culture by uh. making it a culture. god i hope i didn't overwrite actual details about the planet that were in the show oops
> 
> title from "accidentally in love" by counting crows. fuck you.

“You didn’t,” Mako says, looking up from the screen.

Lazer Ted shrugs, looking as always completely unfazed by everything happening in front of him. “You were complaining last night about not having a job,” he says. “I just, I just hate seeing my boy Mako like this.”

“I’m not a— Ted, I’m not a felon!”

Ted shrugs. “They don’t need to know that,” he says. “All you’d have to do is show up and be a general nuisance.”

Mako deflates. “I am really good at that,” he admits. “Okay, fine. But if no one bites in the next week you take it down and get me something better.”

“I have a whole ARSENAL of SOLID craigslist ads we can try,” Ted proclaims. “But trust me. You’re going to have rich fuckers begging at your feet within twenty minutes. _Trust me_.”

**)0(**

The thing is Mako does trust Ted. Or else he would have told Ted to not even bother when he’d told Mako he could “hook him up with a SOLID craigslist ad, my dude, my friend.”

Ted’s jobs have always worked out for him in the past (even the whole printing a printer thing, eventually) and so Mako has no reservations that something Ted tries for him will take. Eventually.

It’s about two days after Ted runs the Craigslist ad that someone bites. Ted comes barrelling into Mako’s tiny, shitty apartment holding a Slurpee and yelling, “JACKPOT, MY DUDE, JACKPOT.”

“Huh?” Mako asks, rubbing his eyes. It’s three in the morning. “Whuzzgoinon, Ted?”

“I TOLD you, you’d have rich fuckers begging at your feet, and look at what I just got. I was just enjoying a nice Slurpee, you know, how I do, and I got a little ping on my teeth—,” Mako cringes; he tried the teeth tech once and it hurt like a motherfucker, “and Mako, my friend, read this motherfuckin’ message I just got sent.”

Mako blinks a few times to clear his vision and squints at the holo Ted is brandishing in his face.

 

_I am writing on behalf of my youngest sibling. Our parents are inviting a number of dignitaries to our Thanksgiving dinner this year and I am afraid they are going to snap. If you would be willing to pose as their partner for the weekend, I am willing to pay up front and in advance for your services._

_Euanthe Akakios Themistokles_

 

“That’s not,” Mako says.

“THAT IS,” Ted shouts, making Mako clap a hand over his ear on that side, “INDEED THE APOSTOLOSIAN HEIR. BING FUCKING POT.”

“Ted, no one has ever said ‘bingpot’ except for you.”

“The more I say it, the more likely it is to catch on, dude.”

**)0(**

So that’s how Mako agrees to pretend to date the youngest member of the Apostolosian royal family. No big deal. No big fucking deal at all.

Mako has seen images of Cassander Timaeus Berenice before, in little holos of the Apokine making speeches on Apostolos. But that was back during their awkward teen years, when Mako was still on September and Cassander looked angry every time a camera zoomed in on their face, hair dyed red and twisted into a rope braid that hung over one shoulder, and Mako didn’t really care much for Apostolosian politics anyway. Always seemed like a whole bunch of despots trying to regain power they lost in the Golden War. At least, that’s what Aria says, whenever Apostolos comes up. Mako doesn’t have an opinion either way.

Or at least he didn’t have an opinion until the heir hired him to date their sibling. Now, well. Mako would have expected Cassander to message him directly. Maybe even Sokrates. But Euanthe? That’s unexpected. Mako would have thought their relationship would be strained somewhat. Maybe this is Euanthe making up for how awkward things were in the wake of the war?

Whatever. Mako doesn’t care. He’s getting free food, a fuckton of creds, and an off-world vacation for free. Everything else is just a bonus.

**)0(**

(The creds come in and Mako almost chokes on his terrible Consolation Coffee. Aria sees, because she’s with him when the payment hits, and immediately tells the barista that their drinks are on him. She’s a good friend.)

**)0(**

“So much, Ted,” Mako moans, in the ship on the way to Apostolos. He hasn’t got much time left before his wristband dies but he needs to make absolutely clear to Ted how fucked he is. “So many creds. In _advance_.”

“It just means they really want you to shake things up a little bit over there,” Ted says, eyes hidden behind ridiculous shades. “Or a lot a bit. Give them the ol’ Mako Trig charm, maybe fog up some of their tech—,”

“I don’t speak their tech’s language, Ted—,”

“Whatever. Just charm the pants off of ‘em and fuck ‘em up. Come back, we’ll split the creds and have a good night out on the town.”

It’s a solid plan. “What if I fuck stuff up too bad?”

“You’re not gonna blow up the entire palace,” Ted says, waving a hand in dismissal. “There’s not much worse you can do than that.”

**)0(**

The palace is. Well. Huge. And much, much shinier than Mako was expecting. He can see his reflection in the perfectly polished floor, and self-consciously smooths down his hair before he remembers that he’s supposed to be causing trouble here and leaves it alone.

The guards bring him up a flight of stairs and through a maze of corridors so quickly Mako almost gets dizzy with it and bring him to a set of doors that are much smaller and more simple than Mako was expecting. They leave him alone there, in front of those doors, without a word as to who is going to be behind them or what Mako should do or even an announcement to the other side, which is an affront.

Mako straightens his jacket and his back and knocks smartly on the door in front of him.

There’s a crash of something from inside and then a voice. “Oh, Cassander, that’s probably your boyfriend.”

There is complete and utter silence on the other side of the door.

“Aren’t you going to let him in?”

More silence. Then footsteps.

Cassander Timaeus Berenice opens the door and Mako’s first thought is _Wow, they really grew into their face_. Which is ridiculous. But Cassander is no longer the gangly, awkward, glowering teenager Mako’s seen in holovids. They’re clearly an adult, clearly in their late thirties, and clearly _extremely fucking hot_. Their long hair is loosely braided in a traditionally Apostolosian three-strand and their eyes stare at Mako with… well, absolutely no emotion Mako can read at all. _Oh, boy_.

“Mako Trig, right?” says another voice, and Euanthe rises from a lounge chair in the corner. “Come in, come in, we’ve been expecting you.”

“We?” Cassander asks, but steps aside to allow Mako into the room, so. Baby steps.

“You need better soundproofing on this room,” Mako says. “I could hear your conversation from outside.”

“I may have been overdoing it,” Euanthe says, gliding across the room to close a set of huge double pane windows. “Our parent was outside in the garden. Do you want something to drink? Something to eat?”

“Euanthe,” Cassander says through gritted teeth. “What did you do?”

“I’m just looking out for you,” Euanthe says, with an amused, serene smile. “Mako?”

“Coffee,” Mako says, and then thinks better of it. “Actually, no. What do you recommend?”

“I know just the thing,” Euanthe says. “I’ll leave the two of you alone for a moment.”

They leave through a door at the side of the room, shutting it almost all the way but leaving it open a crack.

“There is no way they aren’t listening right now, right,” Mako asks, just to check.

“Absolutely none,” Cassander says.

“Good to know.” Mako takes a quick moment to survey the room. It’s large but not as overwhelmingly cavernous as the main hall was, and most everything is draped with rich-looking fabrics of deep teal and gold. Cassander takes a moment to slide the drapes closed over the windows and Mako takes a moment to appreciate the rear view before they turn around, looking somewhat nervous and apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” they say, tugging on the end of their braid. “I told Euanthe not to respond to the ad. I thought they might have listened to me.”

Mako shrugs. “Siblings,” he says. “Am I right?”

Cassander chuckles a little bit, and for a second they look younger. “Are you actually a felon?” they ask.

“No,” Mako says. “My friend set up the ad for me. He exaggerated a bit. I am a complete nuisance, but. No criminal record.” He neglects to mention that this is because he is an excellent criminal and an even better Stratus, thank you very much, but Cassander doesn’t need to know this. He’ll just brag about it at drinks.

“You really don’t have to do this,” Cassander tries, but Mako snorts.

“I’m already here, dude,” he says. “I don’t get many opportunities to dress up this nice, either.” He smooths his hand down his shirt and tweaks his jacket. There is also the matter of Cassander being hotter than he expected an older fish person to be, but he’s not going to mention that.

Cassander, for what it’s worth, rolls their eyes. “You’re wearing a plastic t-shirt.”

“I know. It’s my best one.”

“Your best t-shirt?”

“My best _plastic_ t-shirt.”

“You have more than one?”

“It’s a staple of my closet.”

Cassander looks amazed for all of five seconds before schooling their features back into neutrality. “Are you sure about this? Thanksgiving with my family sucks on the best of days. This is going to be much, much worse.”

“Don’t worry,” Mako says. “Your sibling paid me a ton of creds to be here. The least I can do is follow through, right?”

Cassander smiles, a little more relaxed than the expression they’d worn when they’d opened the door for Mako, and says, “Yeah.”

Euanthe reenters the room with a tray of extremely glittery purple drinks. “Take them slow,” they advise, with a wink. “There’s a lot of alcohol in them.”

Cassander takes a glass and downs the whole thing in one go.

**)0(**

“So. Who knows your sibling has hired me?”

“Just me and them,” Cassander says. “Sokrates is going to guess in about five seconds, but they’ll think it’s funny enough that they won’t say anything about it.”

“We should probably talk boundaries,” Mako says. “Just in case. Don’t want either of us to be taken by surprise, right?”

“No,” Cassander says. “Yeah, no.”

“Are your family going to be expecting physical affection?”

“No,” Cassander says emphatically. “No, they’re definitely not.” They hesitate for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind a little bit. Just to piss them off a little bit. But nothing over the top.”

“Done,” Mako says. “Pet names?”

Cassander blushes, the tiniest amount. “Maybe?” they say. “It depends.”

“On?”

“On what they are.”

“Babe?” Mako suggests. “Honeybuns? Angelfish? Darling?” The last one makes Cass blush a little brighter (literally, they’re _glowing_ ), which is info Mako files away for later. _There’s not going to be a later_ , his traitorous brain reminds him, but he firmly pushes that thought aside with a _Shut up, Larry_.

“Angelfish?” Cassander says. Mako shrugs.

“Too fishy?” He thinks for a moment. “Hey, can I call you Cass?”

Cassander actually reacts to that— just a series of rapid blinks, but a reaction all the same. “What?”

“I dunno,” Mako says. “Just seems right.”

Cassander stares at him, mouth slightly ajar, and then finally says, “Okay. Sure.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Cassander says. “Cass. Huh. That’s… not bad.”

Mako’s heart makes an uncomfortable little jump in his chest. _Dammit_. “What’s the weekend look like?”

“Well,” Cassander says, “there are drinks tonight. Tomorrow the family arrives and my parent will want to give them a tour of the grounds. We’ll be expected to accompany them. Dinner is tomorrow night at six sharp, followed by dessert and more drinks. I believe the dignitaries’ reception is the night after, but the rest of that day is free.” They grimace. “And then the night after _that,_ everyone leaves. Thank Apotine. Not that I,” they stammer, “not that I want you to,”

“Relax, Cass,” Mako says. “I get it. Politics, right? It’s not personal.”

“Yeah,” Cassander says. “Just politics.”

Mako thinks for a moment, running through the major possibilities in his head. “How did we meet?” he asks finally. “Someone’s bound to ask us eventually.”

Cassander blinks for a moment, and then says, “I was stationed on Counterweight during the war.”

“No you weren’t,” Mako says immediately.

“It’s part of the story—,”

“No one came to Counterweight during the war, especially not an Apostolosian corps,” Mako says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’d say we met on September except no one would have landed there either.”

“Why September?”

Mako hesitates, and then shrugs. It doesn’t really matter. “I’m _from_ September. It’s the only other planet I’ve been to.” Talking about his life pre-Counterweight can get dangerous since most people don’t know anything about Strati or that the September Institute was training them, and most people definitely do not know what they were training Strati for, but Mako trusts Cassander to not pry too deep into what Mako got up to on September.

And, sure enough, they don’t. Just nod and say, “Well, we have to have met _some_ where.”

“True,” Mako says, and rubs at his chin. “Where were you stationed during the war?”

“Sage and Garden, mostly.”

“We could have met on Garden,” Mako shrugs. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility for me to have made it there.”

Cassander nods. At that moment there is a knock on the door and Cassander sighs.

“That’s our cue,” they say. “This at least shouldn’t be too stressful— I think it’s just Sokrates, Euanthe, and my parent tonight. The Apokine won’t even be there.”

That actually sounds really nice. Mako hadn’t made any actual plans for the weekend, but thoughts are beginning to formulate in his head, and he resolves that if nothing else a good impression on Cassander’s family will make the antics of the rest of the holiday all the more surprising. “Well, then let’s go!” he chirps, and hops to his feet.

This is going to be fun.

 

* * *

 

**FRIDAY, AFTER DRINKS**

“So Sokrates seems to really like me,” Mako says cheerfully, as they make their way back to Cassander’s rooms.

“They do, don’t they?” Cassander chuckles. “I think you remind them of themself a little bit.”

“Your parent seems to like me too,” Mako adds, nudging them a little bit.

“My parent likes anyone who can keep me from making trouble,” Cassander says. “And you were exceptionally well-behaved tonight. They may not like you so much after tomorrow night.”

“I’ll behave myself tomorrow night too,” Mako says, mock-offended. “I’m the most well-behaved. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Cassander actually smiles at that, a real grin that splits their face wide open. Mako sees the point of their teeth and has to swallow.

Cass opens the door for him and Mako steps inside. When he turns around, Euanthe is there whispering something into Cass’s ear, looking wide-eyed and grim. Cass’s face is stony again, and they glance at Mako for a moment before looking back at the floor.

“It’s fine,” they say. “We’ll make it work.”

“What’s going on?” Mako asks, looking between Euanthe and Cass with growing trepidation. “Is there an issue?”

“We’ll make it work,” Cass says again. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Euanthe nods, casts a look at Mako, and leaves again. Cass sighs and steps into the room, shutting the door behind them.

“What’s happened?” Mako asks. “Have I been found out?”

“No,” Cass says. “The opposite. Apparently when Euanthe told my parent my partner was coming, they assumed we wouldn’t need a separate room.” There’s a faint blush beginning to glow in the scale patches on their neck and cheeks. “All of the other rooms have been prepared for coming dignitaries and relatives.”

“Oh,” Mako says, and then realizes what they’re saying. “ _Oh_.”

“There’s a chaise outside,” Cass says quickly. “I’ve slept on it before, if you’re not comfortable— I know we didn’t talk about this.”

This conversation is moving very quickly. “Are you saying your parent expected us to share a bed?” Mako asks.

“Yes,” Cass says, through gritted teeth. “I’m so sorry.”

“Okay,” Mako shrugs. “I’m fine with it if you are.”

Cass blinks rapidly for a moment. “What?”

“Yeah,” Mako says. “Look, we’re gonna have this whole big discussion because I don’t want to make you give up your bed, but you don’t want me to sleep on the chaise or on the floor. You’re a scion. You probably have a huge bed, and I’ve shared far smaller. If you’re comfortable with it, I’m fine with it.”

Cass doesn’t say anything for a long time, and Mako is suddenly afraid that he’s overstepped somehow, that Apostolosians are actually far less comfortable with physical contact than Mako believed and he’s been making Cass uncomfortable this whole time, but then Mako realizes Cass is just biting their lip, worrying it between their teeth. That’s usually, in Mako’s experience, a sign of nervousness as opposed to discomfort, and Mako lets himself relax just a fraction.

“Yeah,” Cass says. “Okay.”

“I’m not pressuring you into this, right?” Mako asks, just to make sure. “Because I will go sleep on the chaise, I don’t mind, I like small sleeping spaces—,”

“Mako,” Cass says, and steps forward to take both of Mako’s hands in their own. “I’m fine with it. I promise.”

They stand there like that for a moment, and then Cass drops Mako’s hands with a little flinch, like they’d forgotten that they literally met four hours ago, and clears their throat. “I’m going to take a bath,” they say. “Make yourself comfortable.”

So Mako spends about an hour exploring Cass’s immense rooms; he’s not opening any drawers or trying to fog open locked doors (they all seem to be locked with actual keys anyway) but just taking a quick look around reveals no less than two separate lounge areas, a kitchen which is larger than Mako’s entire apartment but also probably miniature in comparison to whatever the kitchen for the whole palace must look like, a private garden filled with dark flowers and illuminated by soft golden orbs, and the absolute largest bed Mako has ever seen in his entire life.

He snaps a picture of himself on the bed, captions it _BEST JOB EVER!!!!!_ and sends it to Aria. He gets a snap back surprisingly quickly given the weakness of the mesh on Apostolos, of Aria lounging in her room on her ship captioned _same hat!!!!_ Which, no Aria, not same hat, since she’s still upsettingly single and Mako is… also single, but about to share this massive bed with a hot Apostolosian scion, so he wins, ha ha.

Cass comes out of their bath, hair hanging loose and wet around their shoulders. “You’re welcome to,” they say, awkwardly, nodding at the room they just emerged from. Mako wonders why they look so suddenly flustered and then realizes, abruptly, that very likely Cass has never had another person in their bed before and Mako is currently sprawled across the whole damn thing like he owns it.

“Shit, yeah, okay,” Mako says. “Um. You can go to sleep if you want. I don’t want to keep you awake— big day tomorrow, right? All those… dignitaries…”

“Don’t worry,” Cass says. “I’m a heavy sleeper.”

“Great!” Mako says, and makes a break for it.

Of course, because he’s in a palace and his life cannot get any crazier, the bathtub is about the size of the swimming pool at the September Institute. Mako takes a moment to silently scream about how unbelievable his life has become in the last three weeks before shucking his clothes and sliding into the bath and fuck, it’s so warm, Mako could die happy right here right now and his only regret would be that he never actually got to fuck up any Apostolosian royal dignitaries.

Mako almost, _almost_ falls asleep in the water, lulled by the warmth and the smell of the salt (real, actual salt, not the replicated bullshit they use on the chips at shitty food markets sometimes), but then water goes up his nose and he sputters back to wakefulness with a cough. Three minutes later he stumbles out of the room, using his shorts to rub his hair dry, and finds Cass sitting in bed, aimlessly spinning a holographic globe that looks like a map of Kesh. When they spot Mako they quickly shrink the globe and toss it onto a chaise on the other side of the room; it bounces almost as if it were real.

“I hope you didn’t wait up for me,” Mako says.

“Nah,” Cass says. “I had some things I wanted to look at anyway.”

Mako drops his hands, and then realizes he’s standing in Cass’s room in very little clothing and scrambles for his stuff, which Euanthe must have had brought in at some point during drinks.

Feeling way more comfortable and like he’s in enough clothing to put Cass at ease (which, granted, is only an old t-shirt from Aria’s last concert and a different pair of shorts) Mako climbs back up onto the bed and pauses. This is absolutely one of those dumb beds that has a top sheet, a blanket, a duvet, and a decorative cover, like in the swanky hotels Aria gets to stay in sometimes, and Mako has no idea how to navigate this situation.

“It’s fine,” Cass says, and Mako startles to look up at them. Cass is looking at him, not patronizingly or anything, just neutrally, but their tone is a touch gentle when they say, “I don’t care how you sleep. However you’re comfortable.”

Mako breathes out. “Okay.”

He’s getting situated under the top sheet when Cass abruptly says, “Wait, is that an Aria Joie shirt?”

“Yeah,” Mako says. “Are you going to tease me for my taste in music? Because this is going to get real awkward real quick if you are.”

“No,” Cass says. “No, I like Aria Joie. I just didn’t know she did t-shirts.”

“Oh, she doesn’t usually,” Mako says. “But at her last show she tried it out. This is an alpha version, if you look at it with the mesh she’s meant to be dancing with her mech but it glitches out every twenty frames or so— she gave it to me ages ago— why are you looking at me like that?”

Cass is staring at him in slack-jawed astonishment. “Do you _know_ Aria Joie?” they ask.

“She’s like my best friend,” Mako snorts. “No offense to Lazer Ted, who is the coolest guy I know and got me this job, but Aria gets me free concert tickets and goes drinking with me after her shows and watches weird obscure anime with me and actually enjoys herself while doing so, so, she wins.”

The light in the room is starting to dim, but Mako is still able to see pretty clearly as Cass’s face transforms from astonishment into surprise. It’s a minute change, but it’s the most obvious facial shift they’ve had all night. “Huh,” they say.

“Didn’t think I was cool enough to have a pop star for a best friend?”

“No,” Cass says quickly, “I didn’t think you weren’t cool enough, I just didn’t realize how interesting you’d be. I mean, what kind of person lets his friend post an ad offering himself up as a fake boyfriend?”

“A cool one,” Mako says, with a grin. “Someone who needs money but also has a sense of adventure. You’re easily the most interesting job I’ve ever taken.”

Cass blushes, just for a moment but enough that they actually glow.

“Hey, are you tired?” Mako asks.

“A little,” Cass replies, “but I could stay up later. Why?”

“I want to know more about you,” Mako says.

“Just for the job, I assume,” Cass replies, dryly, but Mako shakes his head.

“No, I’m just interested. You’re super interesting. And it’s not _every_ day you get to talk to an actual real-life Apostolosian scion without any fear of someone listening in.”

“Someone’s always listening in.” Cass shrugs. “But not closely. Okay. What do you want to know?”

(They’re up for another hour before Cass nods off in the middle of telling a story and Mako decides it’s time to call it. But in that hour he finds out that Cass’s teenage goth phase continued well into their twenties, Euanthe had a penchant for smoking seaweed in their rooms while Sokrates was exiled, and Cass can do a spot on impression of a dolphin, whatever the fuck that is.

Mako also manages to make Cass laugh— just for a moment, and not loudly, but it’s a full and rich sound, and Mako ignores the voice in his head telling him that this is all only temporary and decides that he wants to try and make them laugh every day for as long as he knows them.)

 

* * *

  

**SATURDAY, MORNING**

Mako is woken from sleep by a sudden bright light hitting the back of his eyelids that makes him yelp and roll over immediately.

“Ow,” says a voice next to him and Mako gasps, shooting upright to look at Cass, who’s rubbing their face with one hand.

“Sorry,” he whispers. He looks out at the windows which are open. Bright light is streaming through them, casting incredible patterns on the floor in the shape of the windows. “What is that?”

Cass grumbles. “The sun?”

“Oh,” Mako says. It’s much… whiter than he was expecting it to be.

“Mako, why do you sound like you’ve never seen sunlight before?”

“I’ve seen sunlight.” On September, occasionally, between storms, but even that was more of a rich gold-red than this bright white. “It’s just been a while. And it’s never been this bright before.”

Cass slowly sits up. “It doesn’t look like this on Counterweight?”

“It’s fake on Counterweight,” Mako says. “And only in the BluSky domes. Which I don’t live in.” He grins a little sheepishly. “We kind of got fucked over by the war.”

“Oh,” Cass says, and looks out the window.

“I wish Aria were here to see this,” Mako says wistfully. “She’s never seen sunlight. She’d be freaking out right now.”

Cass doesn’t say anything. Mako looks over at them and finds they’re looking back. Sunlight shines off their hair and the side of their face.

“It’s beautiful,” Mako says. He’s definitely talking about the sun.

Cass nods, not breaking eye contact. “Yeah, it is.”

They keep looking at each other for a moment, and then Cass looks at the clock on their side table. “We still have an hour before we have to be up,” they say. “If you want to try and catch another hour of sleep, I would recommend it.”

Mako clears his throat. “Good idea,” he says, and flops back down.

 

* * *

 

**SATURDAY, THE TOUR**

Mako’s seen gardens in holos before. Most of them were small, dark green, and withering, and they are nothing compared to the palace gardens of the Apokine. These sprawl, bright green with flowers like Mako has never seen before making them pop with color. The sun is bright in his eyes and he ends up swapping out his visor for a pair of shutter shades, which helps a little, but not much.

As he’s led to the greeting line, where the Apokine, Cass’s other parent, and the three scions wait, Mako takes the opportunity to get a feeling for the tech. A lot of it is coded in Apostolosian, which Mako does not understand in the slightest, but much of the garden is run by mechanics connected to an Oricon network. It’s an old one, but Mako can read most of what it says. What is Oricon tech doing on Apostolos, though?

Mako is jerked roughly from his surveying by a guard’s hand dropping onto his shoulder. “The partner of Cassander Timaeus Berenice,” they say. “Mako Trig.”

Mako gulps, but schools his face into one of boredom.

The Apokine cuts an imposing figure, towering even over Euanthe, who stands in heels that cannot be comfortable to walk around cobblestone in. They barely spare Mako a glance, even when Mako makes a ridiculous face at them as they turn back to the greeting line. Cass’s other parent, whose name Mako remembers as Artemon Photios Galene, gives Mako a thin, apologetic smile, and turns away just as quickly.

“Hey,” Mako says to Cass, at the end of the line. "So, your parents?”

“Are happy,” Cass says, and takes Mako by the wrist to pull him in line next to them. “You’re not getting off that easy, agapi mou— as my partner you've got to greet all of the guests as well.”

“Agapi mou?” Mako asks, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. The words roll off his tongue wrong, but Cass only looks amused.

“You said pet names,” they reply. “Face forward, they’re arriving.”

The first person to come down the line is an older Apostolosian with silver scales coating the side of their neck from their ear down to disappear below the collar of their jacket. When they reach Cass and Mako, they give an easy smile that makes Cass let out a sigh. Mako can feel more than see the tension leech from their shoulders.

“Koda,” Cass says, sounding relieved. “Koda, this is my partner, Mako Trig. Mako, this is—,”

“Koda Archigenes Whitegloves,” Koda says, and Mako looks at their easy smile and the relaxed slump of Cass’s shoulders and respectfully greets them. “Cassander and I served together in the Iatrokos Corps during the war.”

“Koda taught me everything I know about surgery,” Cass says.

“And you taught me quite a bit about liquor,” Koda teases. “Do you mind if I join you for the tour?”

Cass hesitates, glancing at the Apokine, so Mako intervenes. “Not at all!” he chirps. “I’d _love_ to hear stories about what Cass was like during the war.”

Koda mouths _Cass?_ at Cass over Mako’s head like he can’t fucking see them do it. For their credit, Cass only blushes a little and shrugs.

Koda moves down the line to greet Sokrates and Cass nudges Mako in the side. Mako stretches up so Cass doesn’t have to lean too far down. “Thank you,” they whisper.

“Don’t worry,” Mako says, and winks. “I have a plan.” It’s an incredibly convoluted plan that depends on whether or not he can fog Apostolosian tech while walking and how tippable Cass’s cousins are, but the nice thing about convoluted plans to cause mayhem is that as long as one part of the plan works mayhem has been caused. Besides, he can always fake trip over something and knock into someone anyway, if all else fails.

Cass, for their part, just shakes their head. “Don’t hurt anyone,” they say, but there’s a tiny smile tugging at the corners of their mouth.

“Darling, I would never,” Mako says, hand over his heart, and Cass rolls their eyes and straightens up to greet the next dignitary and introduce them to Mako.

Mako might not care a lot about Apostolosian politics but he’s not an idiot. And he’s always been good at faces. It’s very easy to play up his hyperactive side while also keeping a careful tally of people to fuck with and people Cass likes. Koda is on the no-no list from the first minute; so are Aikaterine, a small, nervous-looking person who introduced themselves as a distant relation who works in translating old Atlantean records; Vasilios, an older person with sharp eyes and gardener’s hands; and Lachesis, who is wearing an incredibly patterned sweatervest even in the heat of the Apostolosian sun, which is a kind of strong Mako has no interest in fucking with. Hieronymos, however, is a pompous looking brat with light purple scales who gives Mako a weird look when they greet him, and Charalampos seems nice but Cass says they’re a hairdresser which means they’re probably a gossip, which means they’re on thin ice as far as Mako’s concerned.

Most of the remainder of the introductions pass by in a blur and then they’re walking (or, in the cases of Euanthe and the Apokine, gliding, since they seem incapable of doing anything else) around the main gardens. Mako tips his sunglasses back over his eyes to mask how his gaze sweeps over the garden, searching for a spot to jack in where he won’t be noticed.

“So, Mako,” Koda says, falling into step on his other side. “You said you were from Counterweight.”

“Uh-huh,” Mako replies. _Got it_. He jacks in quickly, pleased to find it’s easy to slip in and avoid activating an ICE protocol, and turns his gaze to Koda. “It’s pretty trash, but it’s home.”

“I see,” Koda says, looking at him with sharp eyes. “How old are you?”

Mako shrugs. “Don’t keep track,” he says breezily. “Figure one day I’ll be old and die and then I’ll know.” Behind him, he hears someone snort. “Younger ‘n Cass though, that’s for sure.”

“I’m an old fish,” Cass says. Mako runs through a list of insults in his head and sets the nearby fountains, which are the kind to send jets of water jumping in quick bursts, to tap some of them out in old signal code as they pass by.

“Are you from Counterweight originally?” Koda asks, and Mako tenses. Saying he’s from the September Institute would probably be a dead giveaway. Just September, though. That would be fine.

“No, actually,” Mako says, and sets off a sprinkler on the other side of the garden to set the main plan in motion. “I’m from September.”

“Interesting,” Koda says.

“Did you study at the September Institute?” Aikaterine pipes up from behind him. Mako turns to look over his shoulder at them; they’re walking with Lachesis and looks at him in wide-eyed interest. “I know the headmaster there— Maryland September?”

“She hasn’t—,” Mako cuts himself off. “I heard it was someone new, now.”

“Yes, Superintendent Twelfth,” Lachesis says. “You know I had a number of conversations with him back when Maryland was in charge of the Institute. He had some brilliant ideas —,”

With Aikaterine’s attention pulled away from Mako, he turns back to beam up at Koda. “So, tell me about young Cassander.”

Cass groans good-naturedly and takes Mako’s hand in theirs. “Do we have to?” they ask.

“Darling, you don’t tell me enough stories about what you were like when you were younger!” Mako says, batting his eyelashes up at them and switching on another sprinkler. “You invited me here for Thanksgiving, the least you can do is let me have this.”

“He isn’t wrong,” Koda says, eyes sparkling. “Though many of my stories are full of, well, blood and guts.”

“That doesn’t bother me in the slightest,” Mako says, with a grin, and Koda nods.

“Have they ever told you about the first surgery they performed under fire?”

And so the tour continues. Up ahead the Apokine is introducing parts of the gardens to the visiting dignitaries and calling back to relatives to boast about new and prized plants. Mako carefully manipulates the pathways, the sprinklers, and the fountains, and manages to switch the schedule of the nearby maglev for good measure, while Koda tells story after story about Cass. Cass themself eventually butts in with a story about Koda, and during a lull while they cross a bridge over a small stream starts suddenly laughing for absolutely no reason Mako can immediately discern. Euanthe turns around to look at them and catches Mako’s eye, giving him a wink and a nod before returning to their conversation with Zoe.

They take the maglev (once it arrives) to the other side of the grounds where they mingle more than walk along a set path. Mako has to jack back in, but ICE isn’t triggered and he dismisses the alert with a glare at the stonework so it’s not super bad.

Time to survey. The area they’re in is a circle of stonework in the center of more gardens. An ornate fountain sits in the middle, with gentle water streaming down its sides from the jug of a water-bearer on top. The fountain is surrounded by benches and a number of dignitaries settle there to chat and run their hands in the cool water. Mako itches to go join them, beginning to regret the fancy new jacket he picked for this walk, but he really doesn’t know them or what they’re doing, and besides, he needs a good vantage point if this is going to work.

“It’s a tradition,” says a voice from above him. Mako looks up to see Sokrates, arms folded, grinning down at him. “If you run your hands in the fountain while you speak to someone at Thanksgiving you’re guaranteeing them a good year.”

“Does it actually work?” Mako asks.

Sokrates only laughs. “Enjoying yourself so far?” they ask, settling onto the bench next to Mako.

“Very much,” Mako says, with a grin. “You have a beautiful home.”

“This isn’t even it at its best,” Sokrates says. “In the height of spring more of the flowers are blooming and it’s awash with color. And you should see Cassander’s winter home someday— I think that’s the most beautiful place on the entire planet.”

“It can’t be when they aren’t there,” Mako says, glancing over at them to see if they’re listening.

Sokrates laughs. “No one said you were a poet!”

“Not really,” Mako says. He reaches for another sprinkler to set off and finds something even better— there are fountains in the benches, probably left over from an Apokine with a better sense of humor, and in the strangest twist of fate there happens to be one directly underneath Hieronymos, sitting next to the fountain deep in discussion with Koda. Bing fucking pot.

It’s easier to fog if Mako lets his hands move too, so he disguises the twist of his wrist as a nervous twitch. “I’m usually better with actions than words,” he says, with a wry smile.

Hieronymos shoots up from their seat with a yelp as a spurt of water catches them right in the ass. They do, however, slip on the stones, left wet after the sprinklers went off too soon, and fall directly into the fountain behind them. Sokrates gasps, Euanthe rises, and Mako swears he catches Artemon duck behind the Apokine with their hand over their mouth and mirth glittering in their eyes.

Koda stands up to peer over the side of the fountain. “Well,” they say. “That’s certainly one way to bless me with good fortune.”

Sokrates snorts and turns away from the fountain to hide their laughter. Mako claps a hand on their shoulder.

Hieronymos emerges from the fountain soaking wet, hair coming out of their updo and plastered to their face over their eyes. Mako collapses forwards with giggles.

 

* * *

  

**SATURDAY, DINNER**

“Are you going to explain to me how you did that?” Cass asks, as they rifle through their closet looking for proper dinnerware.

“Did what?” Mako asks innocently, trying to decide between two different plastic t-shirts. “Hm, what do you think? Seafoam green or pink?”

“Seafoam,” Cass says, without looking. “You made Agamemnon’s fountain tap out insults to the Apokine and no one noticed you do it. I know it was you because my parent is exceptionally particular about the fountain patterns. How’d you do it?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Mako says, one hand on his chest. “Seriously, though, if I told you I’d have to kill you.”

Cass turns around with a swishy looking teal dress in their hands. “I can keep a secret.”

“Not in this palace you can’t,” Mako says. “Hm. Teal?”

“What’s wrong with teal?” Cass asks, looking down at it and back up again.

“You had a teenage goth phase, right?” Mako says. Cass nods, and then looks thoughtful for a moment.

“Wear the pink shirt,” they say, and disappear back into their closet. Mako grins and yanks it on.

When Sokrates sees them from the end of the hall they grin, huge and blinding, and nudge Euanthe in the arm. Euanthe shoots Mako a thumbs-up and Mako preens. Cass said that their only red dress was a little old but it looks brand new, and the lines tightening around the Apokine’s eyes are a score one for Mako.

They stand in silence for only a moment before the doors to the dining room sweep open and Cass is gently leading him inside.

Mako knows a moment before he’s sat down that he might be in a little bit over his head. The size of the chandelier alone (Mako gets an intense urge to swing on it, but it’s suspended so high above the table that he couldn’t even reach it if he could spider-climb up the walls, which he can’t) is enough to make him nervous, but there’s also the fact that they’re all apparently eating together, and there are more forks at his place setting than he’s ever seen in his entire life.

He shoots Cass a nervous look, but Cass is focused on the center of the table, and Mako follows their gaze to see a truly impressive spread of food that looks so shiny it can’t possibly be real, including an actual full-sized animal spread out on a platter as well as a bowl of wine so large Mako is sure he could use it as a tiny boat to sail across an ocean with.

Unexpectedly, Mako finds himself wishing that he’d looked up Apostolosian table manners before he arrived on-planet. Or at least Thanksgiving traditions.

The first course is a round of soup that’s a weird brown-green color. Mako’s not usually a soup person, but this is the richest meal he’s ever going to have in his life so he picks up the tiniest spoon and gives it a taste and it’s… not that bad, actually.

“Seaweed,” Cass mutters under their breath. Mako takes another taste. Sokrates, directly across the table from him, is pointedly not partaking. Euanthe leans over and takes their bowl for themself, throwing Mako a wink.

From there they move through course after course of hors d'oeuvres, plates and platters appearing and disappearing with speed so fast Mako wants to find out who’s done the cooking and like, thank them or something. When he gets bored during the conversation he tries to nudge at what he thinks might be security but finds that it’s all in Apostolosian, meaning he can’t even find the place to jack in and make all the lights turn green or something. _Damn_.

For the main course Artemon stands to carve the huge animal that lays dead in the center of the table. “What have you served us this Thanksgiving, Your Reverence?” Vasilios inquires.

“Ibex,” the Apokine says proudly. Sokrates, across the table, snorts, and claps a hand over their mouth to cover their giggles. Mako buries his face in his hands to do the same. “Of course, traditionally the Thanksgiving meal is a large game bird of some kind, perhaps a cormorant—,” for some reason at those words Cass tenses at Mako’s side, but Mako’s still too full of laughter to properly offer reassurance, “— but Euanthe insisted we let them alone for the year, so I thought this would be a better option.”

“Look at his big fuck-off horns,” Euanthe murmurs to Sokrates, not loud enough that anyone outside their direct vicinity could hear it but enough to set Sokrates off all over again.

It takes what seems like an hour for Artemon to carve the ibex, by which point Mako is ready to throw all his cutlery to the ground and eat the damn thing with his hands. With its horns not blocking Mako’s view of the table he can now see the Apokine and Hieronymos at the end of the table, with only a couple of seats between them, drinking wine and laughing together, very far away from Artemon and the scions. Mako scrutinizes them for a moment and then looks down at his place setting.

When he’s served the meat he looks up with a pleasant smile. “Could I have some more?”

The silence is tense. Euanthe raises an eyebrow and lifts the largest knife Mako has possibly ever seen. More meat appears on Mako’s plate and the two events are probably not related.

Mako quickly realizes why it had taken so long to carve the ibex— first, because ibexes are fucking huge, and second, because the meat is incredibly tough and stringy. Euanthe, with their big old knife, seems to be having the least trouble of anyone, but at least everyone else is eating.

He’s starting to get a little frustrated when Cass leans over and says, “Can I help?” Mako looks over at them with wide eyes and nods, and Cass reaches around to curl their hand gently around Mako’s knife hand. “Bring your hand up more,” they say. “At a taller angle, not straight across. And saw more than lever, like this.” Cass moves their hands and the knife, while not slicing right through the meat, still makes more progress.

“Thanks,” Mako says, voice thick, and Cass squeezes his hand before pulling away. Mako’s hand feels abruptly too cool, and he swallows and gets started on his meat.

When the last of the main course is cleared away (Mako having finished his ibex with his hands for quicknesses sake and the laughter in Euanthe and Sokrates’s eyes) there’s one final course, which is a course of a spicy wine that burns Mako’s throat as it goes down. He drinks it all in one go and focuses on the head of the table.

“Hypatia,” Hieronymos is saying, slurring almost, scales purple against their skin. Mako wonders who Hypatia is before realizing they must be speaking _directly to the Apokine_ , which, fuck. “Hypatia, dearest, have you heard talk of these dissidents calling for something more like a democracy than an empire?”

Across the table Mako sees Sokrates tense, not enough that anyone else would notice but enough that Mako finds himself wondering what they know about these revolutionaries.

“Of course we have,” Hypatia says, taking a sip of their own wine. “They are of little concern to us.”

Sokrates glances up at Cass out of the corner of their eye; Mako looks over at Cass to find a vein in their jaw jumping. Mako reaches to put a hand over theirs but they shake him off.

“Some of the things they say,” Vasilios begins, but Artemon gives them a sidelong glance.

“Do not concern yourself with dissidence,” Hypatia says. “There is very little that peaceful rebellion can accomplish besides being a general nuisance, and the moment they turn to violence, we will have our excuse to crush them under our heels.”

Mako looks at Sokrates with what he hopes is a _What the fuck?_ expression, but Sokrates is staring down at their plate, scales bright. Euanthe is quietly drinking their wine next to them, but Sokrates’s arm shifts very slightly under the table, and Mako thinks that Euanthe might have taken their hand.

Cass looks thunderous, hands shaking on the table in front of them. _No_ , Mako thinks, reaching back out to Cass just as Hypatia makes to continue and is interrupted by an ear-shattering BOOM that makes Mako jump clear out of his skin. Cass looks over in alarm. “Agapi mou,” they whisper, and Mako has to force himself to not react. “Are you alright?”

“Startled, that’s all,” Mako says. “What was that?”

“I have no idea,” Euanthe says, rising. Another BOOM shakes the whole room and Mako turns to peer over the back of his chair.

“What is that?” Aikaterine asks. Mako is surprised to see trails of pink and gold glittering down the sky.

“Fireworks?” he whispers.

“Do you know about this?” Cass asks.

“No,” Mako says, and when they raise an eyebrow at him quickly adds, “ _Honestly_. I have no idea what’s happening right now.”

Another firework goes off, and then another, and Mako goes up to the window to look out at the display. Koda joins him.

“Well, I’ll be,” they say. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen fireworks.”

“Really?”

Koda shakes their head. “We don’t have fireworks on Apostolos,” they say. “I wonder who this is.”

A big pink heart explodes into the sky at that moment, and Mako starts laughing.

 

* * *

 

**SATURDAY, DRINKS**

trigershark: ARIA

ariajoieofficial: hi honey!

trigershark: HOW DID U DO THAT

ariajoieofficial: i have no idea what you're talking about ;)

trigershark: im not mad im just so confused how did u

trigershark: how did u get some1 to set off fireworks on apostolos?????

ariajoieofficial: i didn't get someone to set off fireworks on apostolos

trigershark: oh

ariajoieofficial: no they don't have fireworks on apostolos. i brought them from counterweight.

trigershark: YOU WHAT

trigershark: YOU BROUGHT THEM

trigershark: ARE YOU ON APOSTOLOS

ariajoieofficial: uh yeah duh!!!!!

ariajoieofficial: thought that was obvious

trigershark: NO IT WASNT WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

ariajoieofficial: well about ten minutes after you left i realized that you wouldn't have a way home if you needed to make a quick escape so i asked audy if i could borrow the kingdom come

ariajoieofficial: they're here too! they say hi

trigershark: hi audy

ariajoieofficial: do u need a rescue????

trigershark: no

ariajoieofficial: good

trigershark: no more fireworks!!

trigeeshark: they work but i cant afford to give you more than a 10 percent cut for shenanigans

ariajoieofficial: what if i work pro bono

ariajoieofficial: a favor for a friend who I love dearly

trigershark: ill let u know but for now were good

ariajoieofficial: ok well tell me if u need anything!!!! knock 'em dead!!!!

trigershark: i always do ;)

**)0(**

Mako is on his fourth glass of wine. His cheeks are flushed lavender and they might even be glowing a little bit, Cassander really isn’t sure from this distance. He’s caught up in beating Aikaterine at kottabos, laughing loudly every time the stand rings.

“He’s a lovely boy,” says Koda, from behind them. Cassander looks over his shoulder at Koda to find their mentor also watching Mako, smile playing around his mouth. “You’re very lucky, Cassander.”

Cassander looks back. “I am, aren’t I,” they reply. It’s not difficult to play at being in love with Mako anymore. He’s got this natural charm about him that is hard to resist. Cassander hasn’t laughed as hard as they did when Mako had made the fountains tap out rude messages in old signal code since before Sokrates was banished, probably.

It’s a shame this is all ending soon.

“September,” Koda muses. “He is young enough to have attended the Institute. Has he mentioned anything to you about that?”

“No,” Cassander replies. “He’s a little cagey about what September was like.” It’s not a lie; Mako has been dodging questions about September ever since he arrived, but has been free with information about any and every other part of his life. They don’t want to pry so much that he starts closing up.

Cassander turns as they hear someone say their name and finds Hieronymos, clearly recovered from their ordeal in the fountain, lavender in the scales and waving an arm dramatically as they speak to Euanthe, who looks as though they’d quite like to melt into the floor.

“What I want to know,” Hieronymos says, “is why Cassander has not introduced their _charming_ young boy to us sooner. If you ask me, my dear, it simply reeks of a rebellious fling. Or, is it possible that Cassander feels _ashamed_ of their partner?”

Euanthe looks at Cassander, who raises an eyebrow. It’s not because of Cassander that Mako is here. Of course they’re grateful that he’s here, but Euanthe was the one who brought him in the first place.

“Had Cassander introduced you to Mako before?” Hieronymos asks Euanthe, who turns back to the conversation with a pleasant smile. With a glance at Koda, Cassander begins to edge closer to them under the guise of going to get another drink.

“Just once,” Euanthe says pleasantly. “Over a videocomm— it’s the only way they’ve been able to communicate for a long while, unfortunately.”

“And how long had you said they’d been together?”

“A few years, I believe. Since just before Cassander… returned.” Euanthe shoots them an apologetic look. Cassander, with a refilled glass, shrugs and takes a drink.

“Hm,” Hieronymos sniffs, nose in the air. “A few years. We should be hearing announcements of betrothals if it was that serious, not only just meeting the man.”

“Hieronymos,” says Vasilios, appearing from nowhere, “you are speaking of traditions of your house, not of the Pelagios line. Besides, you know Cassander better than anyone.” They shoot Cassander a wink. “They’ve never done things by the book.”

“In fact,” Cassander says, because they can’t help it and they really want to watch all the color drain from Hieronymos’s face, “I have been considering engagement for a long while.”

The result is immediate and satisfying. Hieronymous looks stunned, Euanthe looks completely taken aback, and Vasilios lets out a laugh. “You see?” they say to Hieronymos. “Always breaking the rules.”

“Cassander,” Euanthe says, questions written in their eyes. “Have you actually?”

Cassander shrugs. “On and off,” they say lightly. Behind them, Mako succeeds in another fling, letting out a cheer of delight, and Cassander finds a smile forming. “For the last year or so.” They wink at Vasilios. “Don’t tell him, though. I want it to be a surprise.”

Euanthe’s eyes are wide, as though asking where this is coming from. Cassander doesn’t know, exactly, what’s spurred them to lie about something as monumental as _engagement_. Maybe it’s Mako’s infectious laughter and carefree desire for fun. Maybe it’s the way he asked Cassander to talk about themself and listened like he actually gave a shit. Maybe it’s because of the wide-eyed wonder etched on his face when he looked at the sun shining through the window. Maybe it’s all of those things and it’s all wishful thinking that Cassander can have Mako for longer than a weekend. They don’t know. They just say it.

There’s a sudden weight that crashes into their side and Cassander looks down to see Mako clinging to them, gazing up with wide eyes and a huge grin. “I won!” he says, proudly. “I think I did, anyway, I got all the lees into the manes and I’m super fucking drunk so I must have won, right?”

“I think you did,” Cassander says, grinning down at him. They’re a little hazy on the rules of kottabos, and they’re not sure if it’s possible to win, but if it keeps Mako smiling like this, well, it doesn’t matter. They wrap their arm around his shoulders, pleased to find the material of his shirt is soft to the touch, and pull him closer into their side. Mako’s hand automatically comes up to cover theirs, thumb rubbing on the back of it.

“What’re’y’talkin’ about?” Mako asks, grinning brightly at Hieronymos. Cassander also turns to Hieronymos, smiling at them. Hieronymos looks even more taken aback.

“Not much,” they bluster. Satisfied, Cassander nods, and turns them both away from the conversation, steering them towards the drinks.

“How much have you had?” Mako asks.

“Three glasses, I believe,” Cassander says. “Wine doesn’t usually get me that drunk.”

“I’ve had about seven bowls,” Mako says. “P’rhaps I should stop.”

Cassander shrugs. “Probably,” they say. “You know your tolerance.”

Mako gives them a shit-eating grin, and Cassander’s heart makes an uncomfortable little flip-flop. “You’re right,” he says. “I do.” And with that, he picks up another glass and drinks it all in one go.

Cassander and Mako drift through the room for the rest of the night, Cassander making small talk and niceties and Mako mostly just laughing and clinging to their arm. Nothing more of incident happens until just about when Cassander’s decided it’s time to stop Mako from drinking any more wine, when they hear Pyrois say to Hieronymos, “No, you know, I agree with you. It seems just a little soon for them to be thinking about betrothal, especially if they haven’t seen him since their return home.”

That’s bullshit. Cassander can make their own decisions about when they want to get married and how soon after meeting their partner it is. Who the fuck are they to be gossiping about someone’s love life at a gathering when they know that person is in earshot?

Cassander has no real idea of what they’re going to do about it when they pull Mako away from the drinks table again, but when Mako spins into their arms, well, it’s like the universe was setting them up for this. It’s five glasses of wine that has Cassander pulling Mako just a little closer so they can lean down and kiss him, in direct view of everyone currently in the hall (which thankfully does not include either of their parents) but especially Pyrois and Hieronymos.

The sensation of being watched quickly fades away, however, as Cassander focuses on the fact that they are kissing Mako and Mako is kissing them _back_ , hands open and flat on Cassander’s chest as though in surprise but lips moving enthusiastically. Cassander closes their eyes and slides their hands down Mako’s sides to his hips and Mako’s hands tentatively move up to thread into their hair, pulling on the strands where they’re braided together around their face.

Someone— probably Sokrates, the malakas— wolf-whistles and Cassander pulls back self-consciously. Euanthe is grinning though, and Koda is giving them a thumbs up, so Cassander turns back to look at Mako, who looks stunned and also incredibly drunk, _shit_.

“You need to sleep,” Cassander decides. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Mako hums and lets Cassander lead him out of the hall and back through the twisting corridors of the palace to their rooms. When they shut the door behind them, Mako immediately collapses face first onto the bed and grumbles incoherently into the pillow.

“You shouldn’t sleep like that,” Cassander says to him. “Do you need help?”

“Nope,” Mako says, into the pillow, and rolls over. “C’n do it m’self, thanks love.”

Cassander hurriedly turns away to undo their braid and shuck off their dresswear. When they turn around, Mako’s removed his terrible plastic t-shirt and shorts and is only in a ridiculous pair of underwear that says JUICY on the butt in pink glitter. It makes Cassander laugh more than anything else.

“Move,” they say, and shove Mako over a couple inches so they have enough room to crawl into the bed after him. Mako grumbles but rolls onto his side so he’s facing Cassander, eyes closed and mouth open but not breathing in the way he does when he sleeps. Impulsively Cassander leans forwards to kiss his forehead and Mako hum a little bit under their touch, tilting his face up in a way that’s so inviting— but no. Cassander shouldn’t have kissed him in the first place, not when he was that drunk.

“Go to sleep, agapi mou,” they whisper, and pull the blankets up over them both.

 

* * *

 

**SUNDAY, MORNING**

Mako wakes up, hazy and surrounded by warmth, his pillow much harder than he was expecting it to be. He nudges it to make himself a little more comfortable and lets out a sigh.

Something is moving on his back. There’s about point two seconds where he’s actually afraid and then he realizes it’s a hand, calloused and warm, shifting up to his shoulder and back down again. “Hi,” he mutters sleepily, and shifts again.

“Good morning,” says a voice above him, and Mako can feel his pillow— Cass’s chest— move with the words. Their voice is rough with sleep and Mako burrows a little closer. “Sleep okay?”

“I think so,” Mako says. “Can’t remember it.”

Cass’s chest rumbles with their laugh. “Do we have to get up now?” Mako asks, tipping his head up and blinking bleary eyes at Cass. “I don’t wanna.”

“We don’t have anywhere to be,” Cass replies. “We don’t have to get up at all.”

“Mm,” Mako hums, reaching up to trace his finger along Cass’s collarbone. “That sounds really nice.”

Something brushes the top of Mako’s head and he sighs, relaxing into Cass’s embrace. This is so nice. If he could wake up like this every morning he could die happy.

There is a terrific crash and Mako yelps, dodging away from Cass like he’s been burned. Cass, for their part, sits straight up and draws a knife from seemingly nowhere to point at the door. “Who’s there?”

“I am SO SORRY,” and Sokrates emerges from behind the door. “SO SORRY. I just wanted to know if you two wanted brunch, but I can come back.”

Mako buries his face in the blanket and lets out a big sigh. Right. This is a job. A job that is getting more and more personal by the minute, but a job all the same. He’s not actually dating Cass, they’ve only known each other for two days, they’re only sharing a bed because there’s nowhere else for either of them to sleep, and he’s leaving Apostolos in the morning and not coming back.

Fuck.

“I think you’d better,” Cass says, and when Mako peeks out they’re looking down at him with apology written all over their face.

“I am so sorry,” Sokrates whispers again, and the door quietly closes behind them.

Cass sighs and brushes a hand through their hair, tipping their head down onto their knees. “Damnit,” they whisper.

“I’m gonna go brush my teeth,” Mako says, and tries to dodge out of the bed. He has not, however, accounted for his impressive hangover, and ends up rolling out of the bed to land in a sad, crumpled heap on the floor, wincing as a wave of nausea overtakes him.

“Mako?” Cass asks. “Are you okay?” Their face appears over the edge of the bed, looking concerned. Mako shoots them a thumbs up.

“Peachy,” he rasps. “Just peachy.”

Cass’s face vanishes from view and Mako closes his eyes, sighs, and makes to untangle himself from the knot he’s tied himself in.

“Want a hand?” Cass asks, and Mako cranes his neck to look at them, offering a hand down to him. Mako takes it, and then the other one that Cass offers, and suddenly he’s being hoisted to his feet and gently placed down on the floor and when he turns around to face Cass they’re very close together.

“Thanks,” Mako says, and doesn’t step away.

“No problem,” Cass says.

They stare at each other for another long moment and then Mako clears his throat. “Teeth,” he croaks.

“Sure,” Cass says. “I’ll get you some painkillers for your headache.”

They come into the bathroom with the pills while Mako’s still brushing his teeth and when they hand them over, they don’t move away. Mako raises an eyebrow at them in the mirror.

“I’m sorry,” Cass says. “About last night.”

“Huh?” Mako says, around the brush in his mouth.

“For…” Cass hesitates, and Mako turns around so he’s looking at them instead of at their reflection. “Um. I kissed you.”

Oh. Right. That. Mako feels his cheeks flame up and hurriedly turns around to spit out the toothpaste in his mouth so he can respond. “Yeah.”

“I shouldn’t have,” Cass says, “I mean, you were really drunk, it wasn’t okay to do that.”

Oh, that’s the issue. “Probably not?” Mako says. “Don’t do it again? I mean, I’m not uncomfortable, now, I know why you did it.”

Cass blinks. “So, we’re fine.”

“We’re great,” Mako says, and swallows the pills. As he makes to exit the bathroom, he stretches up to kiss Cass on the cheek, and it’s only when he’s in the main bedroom that he realizes that that’s not a thing they really do.

“So,” Cass says, and Mako turns to them with an apology ready on his tongue that dies at Cass’s blush and tiny smile. “We have nothing we have to do until the reception tonight.”

“Thank God,” Mako says, because at least this is familiar ground. “I need a break from all the eyerolling that was happening at the party last night.”

“I need a break from my parents,” Cass replies. “I thought about what we could do instead of just,” they clear their throat and look at the bed; Mako immediately averts his eyes and starts going through his bag for a shirt to wear. “And I remembered this museum that I always really liked as a child.”

“Oh yeah?” Mako asks, perking up. He doesn’t usually count museum-going as a favorite hobby of his, but if Cass liked this place as a kid, well, he can’t pass it up.

“It’s open-air,” Cass explains. “On top of a nearby mountain. We’ll have to take a skycar and that takes a while but I promise it’ll be worth it for the view alone.” There’s a little pause and when Mako looks over at them they’re watching him nervously. “And if we stay past sunset we could stargaze a little bit.”

Mako is going to swoon into Cass’s arms if they don’t stop being so goddamn romantic. “Yeah,” he manages. “Would that… that make us late to the reception?”

“I don’t really care,” Cass says dryly. “Do you?”

“Nope,” Mako says, hands raised. “No, nope, not at all. Okay. Yeah, let’s go to the museum. Do you want to do brunch with your sibling?”

Cass looks at the shut doors and sighs. “Yes,” they say. “But… no. I don’t know.”

Mako thinks for a moment. “If it’s going to take a while to get to this museum then maybe we skip brunch? Get it tomorrow instead?”

“Yeah,” Cass says, and their shoulders drop a little bit. “Okay. Twenty minutes?”

“Can do,” Mako says, and starts digging for his favorite flannel shirt.

 

* * *

 

**SUNDAY, THE DATE**

The skycar takes two and a half hours, by Cass’s timepiece, to reach the top of the mountain, at which point it has three other stops to make before it reaches the museum. Mako spends about an hour and a half of that dozing on Cass’s shoulder and wakes up to their arm around his waist and a little of his drool on their shoulder.

“Oh, shit,” he says, but Cass just laughs.

“It’s okay,” they tell him, and reach up to ruffle his hair a little, making it spike up where sleeping on their shoulder flattened it out. “You’re cute when you’re asleep.”

Mako smiles and blushes, and Cass smiles back, and then the cooly automated voice is calling their stop and they have to untangle themselves from each other and duck out into the sunlight.

Cass nods at the person taking money behind the desk and they smile and wave them through. “Timaeus,” they say respectfully, and Cass’s smile gets tighter even though they don't say anything.

The atrium is a beautiful covered bridge with paintings hanging off of columns and sculptures scattered around a tile floor. Mako’s eyes are drawn to the huge sculpture in the center of the room, towering almost to the ceiling, of a huge soldier with a long spear and no face.

“That's the Apokine,” Cass says. “Or at least a representation of it. The actual mech has been missing since the war.”

“Huh,” Mako says. “Is that how big it is?"

“Of course not," Cass says. “It's much bigger. Much, much bigger.”

Their face looks especially pinched looking at the statue, so Mako sweeps the room trying to find something else to fixate on. “What’s that?” he asks, and drags Cass over to a random painting of a tree.

They continue this way for a while, wandering from garden to covered pathway to garden. Every time Mako sees Cass get tense, looking at half buried stone warrior heads or paintings of members of House Pelagios, Mako drags them away to look at something more inane or completely ridiculous (“What does this look like to you?” Mako asks them, squinting at an incredibly phallic sculpture while Cass groans and rolls their eyes).

Cass eventually leads Mako outside to a garden of metal sculptures that look like they’d be perfect to climb up. Mako is just resisting the urge when he glances over and spots a whole group of children climbing up and he yells, taking a running leap onto the nearest hunk of metal and scrambling up as high as he can. “Cass!” he calls down. “Look at me! I’m king of the world!”

Cass is following him up, a little slower but with a gleam in their eye. “What are you talking about?” they ask.

“It’s from an old movie,” Mako says. “I saw it with AuDy once. They didn’t really like it.”

Cass makes it to the top and flops down in a pocket on the top of the sculpture, lying on their back to look up at the sky. They haven’t been here for very long but already the sun is beginning to set; Mako suspects they woke up much later than he originally thought. “I’m not as young as I used to be,” Cass says, closing their eyes. “I used to be able to make it up this in half the time.”

“You used to climb this?” Mako asks, crossing his legs and leaning forward to hear them better. Cass cracks open one eye.

“Yeah,” they say. “Euanthe would take me and Sokrates here and we’d race up and down these sculptures for hours until we got tired. This one was my favorite because it was quick.” They point across the garden to a complicated-looking green sculpture. “Sokrates liked that one better because it used to make me trip.”

“They sound like a dirty, dirty cheater.”

Cass laughs and pushes themself up a little bit to a half-sitting position. “They were a lot of fun,” they say. “Not that they aren’t fun now. It’s just been harder to find time to not be, well,” Cass grimaces a little bit and gestures to themself. “To relax.”

“I like them,” Mako says, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. “They seem like they love you a lot.”

“They do.” Cass looks out across the gardens. The sunset illuminates their face in a warm glow, reflecting off their scale patches in a way that makes them look a little more green than the teal they are. Mako thinks they’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, probably.

“You should maybe remember that more,” Mako says. “You’re lucky to have them.”

“Do you not have siblings?” Cass asks, looking at him. “I thought you would have.”

“No,” Mako says. “I mean, I have Aria and AuDy and Ted, I guess, but Aria’s a pop star and AuDy’s a robot and Ted is, well, _Ted._ ” Mako pauses a moment, but Cass already sort of knows about the fogging thing. He trusts them with this. “I basically grew up at the September Institute, and really parents didn’t come see us unless it was an open day, and mine never showed up, so.” He shrugs awkwardly. “It’s nice that you have them and they’re looking out for you.”

Cass reaches out and takes Mako’s hand. It’s the simplest gesture, but Mako blushes anyway. On top of this sculpture, far away from prying eyes, this little moment is just for them.

The sky has turned a deep burgundy color. The brighter stars are more visible now, some of them hanging large and red in the sky, others the tiniest points of light.

“When do we have to be back?” Mako asks.

Cass checks a timepiece they’ve got in the pocket of their jacket. “We’ve got maybe an hour before we should get back on the skycar,” they say. “We seriously do not have to stay at the reception for very long at all, and in fact I don’t really want to.”

“Me neither,” Mako says. _I’d rather stay right here_ , he doesn’t say. “You promised me stargazing.”

“I did, didn’t I,” Cass says. “Here, lie down with me.”

“There’s not a lot of room up here.” Mako scoots down the sculpture a hair and bangs his knee into the top of Cass’s head. “Sorry!”

“You’ve got really bony knees,” Cass manages, but they’re clearly holding back laughter. “Okay, I have a better idea, if you’re amenable.”

So Mako ends up mostly sitting up against the wall of the sculpture with Cass’s head in his lap as Cass traces constellations in the darkening sky. They’ve forgotten half of the stories they try to tell, but the longer they speak the more enthusiastic they get, eyes glittering with the light of the stars and smile spreading across their face. Every now and then they look at Mako as if to see if he’s still listening, and of course Mako is. He’s enraptured, and not just by the stories or the stars in the sky, but by the way Cass stumbles over their words when they start talking too fast and how their hand sweeps so wide it almost catches Mako in the nose and they lose track of what they were saying to apologize.

“It’s fine,” Mako says, and catches Cass’s hand in his to absently press a kiss to their knuckles. “You missed. What were you saying about Bellerophon?”

“I—,” Cass says, staring up at Mako with wide eyes. “I don’t remember.”

Mako drops Cass’s hand. A little bit of their hair has fallen out of their braid and he brushes it behind their ear. Cass makes a little noise in the back of their throat and Mako’s hand pauses in the act of pulling away, fingers brushing lightly near Cass’s jaw. They lean into his hand, eyes falling half shut, and Mako spares a single glance around to make sure they really can’t be seen before leaning down.

Mako doesn’t really remember the kiss from the night before, which is a fucking crime if this kiss is anything to go by. They don’t do much more than just press their lips together, but Cass still gets a hand in Mako’s flannel and Mako’s fingers curl around the back of their neck. It’s still so good.

They pull apart, but Mako doesn’t move far and neither does Cass, still inches apart. Cass exhales a cool breath and moves their hand up to run the backs of their fingers, feather-light, down Mako’s cheek. Mako closes his eyes, trying to imprint the look on their face into his memory forever.

“We should probably go,” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Cass says. “I think you’re right.”

Mako makes to scramble to his knees but Cass doesn’t let go of him for a second. “Hey,” they whisper. “Thank you.”

Mako’s not sure why he’s being thanked, but he says, “Sure,” and gets all the way up.

Cass helps him down the sculpture and takes his hand again when they reach the bottom. Mako’s fingers flex in their grip all the way back to the skycar and down the mountain back to the palace.

 

* * *

  

**SUNDAY, THE RECEPTION**

Okay, so Mako has no idea when this weekend turned from “fuck up Apostolosian nonsense” to “fuck up Apostolosian nonsense but make a good impression on Cassander’s parent, siblings, and important relations” but he thinks it might be around when he saw Artemon hide a laugh at Hieronymos coming out of a fountain dripping wet with their hair in their eyes. Besides, Sokrates is fun and Euanthe hired him to do this, so he might as well make a good impression.

Which is why, instead of yet another plastic t-shirt, he’s wearing a sweater and pants that… actually go together? Of course he’s wearing a big ol’ plastic suitjacket over top but plastic is a brand that he’s not willing to give up. He enters the reception alone, Cass having had to go earlier to greet politicians or whatever, but Artemon gives him an approving nod when he comes in, so that’s at least a plus.

The reception is much more crowded than the post-Thanksgiving drinking party was; Mako supposes that it’s mostly because of the number of dignitaries. Cass told him Koda was not invited which is a damn shame, and Aikaterine seems caught up in an engaging conversation with a few other people. Cass is talking to Vasilios, and they smile apologetically over their shoulder but don’t come over to join Mako, and Mako feels abruptly at loose ends.

Whatever. He’s here to cause a scene, not socialize. He takes one glass of wine, adjusts his suit jacket, and starts scoping the hall.

Hieronymos glances at Mako a few times while he makes his rounds as though they’re afraid Mako is going to do something else to them. Mako feels a little tempted, but he doesn’t particularly want to target anyone this evening. He just wants to fuck shit up, and has he got an idea of the best way to do it.

But, later. Later. Lull them into a false sense of security, that’s what he does best. He looks at Cass again, but Cass seems to have been caught up in another conversation, so Mako turns his back on them and moves to stand near one of the windows.

From here he can see the entire hall, can see Euanthe laughing with Aikaterine, can see Sokrates deep in conversation with a young Apostolosian with pale purple scales and a tiny pair of glasses perched on the edge of their nose, can see Hieronymos in conversation with a small, older Apostolosian furtively shooting him looks from across the hall. He can see Cass swept up in yet another conversation, almost catches them glance longingly at him but he turns away before he can get confirmation.

There’s a string band in a corner playing soft string music, and Mako watches Sokrates pull the young Apostolosian out into the hall to dance, and he doesn’t miss the way Hypatia glares at them as the young Apostolosian laughs at something Sokrates says.

“That’s Ariadne,” says a voice next to Mako, and he jumps clear out of his skin. When he looks to his side, he finds himself face to face with an Apostolosian with exceptionally fancy braids twisted out of their face and dark scales that glow kind of like oil in the candlelight. “They met during the war. Sokrates insists on inviting them to every reception even though they’re an engineer and they claim to not be involved.”

“Why weren’t they at Thanksgiving, then?” Mako asks.

“Because Their Reverence put their foot down,” says the person, and scrutinizes Mako. “You’re Cassander’s partner, correct?”

“That’s me,” Mako says. It’s much easier to say it now, the lie that spills from his tongue so close to the truth that it hurts. “Mako Trig.”

“Hm,” the person says. “You may call me Leto. You’re not of noble blood, are you?”

“The noblest,” Mako says. He’s starting to get a feeling that he doesn’t particularly care for this person. “All people from September are noble, and I’m the noblest of them all.”

“Hm,” says Leto again, and looks at Sokrates and Ariadne dancing again.

They’re not walking away, and Mako really doesn’t have anywhere to go, and he doesn’t want to stand here awkwardly watching two people dance with someone who he doesn't want to dance with, so he looks at Leto, desperate to find something to talk about. Finally, he settles on, “I like your hair,” which isn’t really a lie. It’s a beautiful white color that seems to glow with an unearthly color as Leto moves. Too bad it belongs to them and not someone Mako actually likes, like Vasilios or Euanthe.

“Oh, thank you,” Leto says, reaching a hand up to pat it gently. “Between you and me, I had it modified. To contrast with my scales, y’see.”

“It looks good,” Mako says, in as fake of a voice as they can manage.

Leto preens a little bit. “We all have to try and stand out in our own ways, y’know,” they say. Mako resists the urge to roll his eyes. There are so many noble houses these days, in the wake of the war, it’s a wonder any of us are even kept straight. Forced to do more wild an extravagant things in order to be noticed.” They chuckle a little bit. “Young Cassander even seems like they’re getting a head start.”

Mako narrows his eyes. Calling Cass “young” seems vaguely condescending, but Mako also doesn’t like the idea that they’re doing anything for attention. If anything, Cass seems like they’re trying especially hard to not be noticed, having Mako as a fake boyfriend aside. “Uh-huh,” he says, in lieu of an actual response.

“Well, they won’t be a scion forever,” Leto says, waving a hand. “Once their sibling is Apokine they’ll live life as a minor noble, where if they want anything they’ll have to do more than bring a pearl hunter ‘boyfriend’ home for Thanksgiving dinner.”

It actually takes a moment for the insult to sink in, because Mako is trying to figure out where Cass has disappeared off to. When it does hit him, all of the warmth drains from the room in a second, and he finds himself gaping like a— well, not like a fish, that seems insensitive, but like a something— at Leto. "I'm sorry?" he says, finally. "Could you repeat that for me?"

Leto flips their hair over their shoulder dismissively. "All I'm saying," they say, "is that Cassander is very clearly smitten with you, and you seem to be paying them absolutely no mind. You're _obviously_ below them in every possible way. Why else would you be with them if not to climb a social ladder?"

Okay. No. Mako had a plan for causing mayhem this evening, but he's officially throwing it out the window because this is uncalled for. "Whoa," he says. "You've known me for, like, five minutes max. You think that's enough time to decide that 'clearly' I'm using Cassander?" He's attracting attention. Good. They've all been treating Cass like shit for the past two days and Mako is not going to stand for it anymore. "First of all, have you ever met them? Do you really think they would stand for that kind of bullshit from anyone, let alone me?"

Cass is at his side in a moment, resting their hand on his shoulder. "Everything all right here?" they ask, tone neutral but grip strong.

"I was just saying," Leto says, stiffly, "that I was concerned that your partner was being untruthful in their intentions."

"And I was just saying," Mako snaps, "that if it seemed like I wasn't paying you enough attention this weekend it was because I was trying really hard to not make a fool of myself in front of your family, which I know you were worried about. Listen," he says to Leto, only not taking a step forwards because of Cass's hand on his arm stopping him from moving, "I know I'm beneath Cassander. They're smart and funny and kind and ridiculously fucking hot. But if you seriously think that I would ever care about anything that wasn't making them laugh, if you ever think I'd use them for something as stupid as money, when they deserve better than me and you and this entire godforsaken planet, then I kindly invite you to fight me."

"Mako," Cass says quietly, squeezing his shoulder, and Mako sighs and leans into Cass's side, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his racing heart.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I hate when people do that."

"Have you been accused of this before?" Leto inquires. "Perhaps it's a personality flaw. Maybe you should speak to someone about that."

Mako, suddenly, can hear nothing except a dull roar in the back of his head. “Cassander, darling," he says, through gritted teeth, "please stop me from doing something stupid.”

"Love," Cass says, voice incredibly tight, "I can't, because I need you to stop me from doing something incredibly rash."

"Oh, that's easy," Mako says. Cass's hand goes slack on his shoulder, and Mako punches Leto right in the face.

 

* * *

 

**MONDAY, ONE IN THE MORNING**

"You shouldn't have done that," Cass says, returning from their kitchen with a bag of ice.

"You did not stop me, " Mako points out, dropping the bag of ice on his shoulder with a sigh.

"No, I didn't," Cass says, and sits down on the table across from Mako. "How's your nose?"

"Hurts."

"Put the ice on it," Cass says. Mako grumbles but does as he's told.

"Let me see your hands." Mako holds out the one that isn't holding ice and Cass carefully takes it, inspecting the bruises there with a critical eye.

"Everything I know about punching I learned from Aria," Mako jokes.

"You're not bad," Cass agrees, "but your form could use some work. Let me get some more ice."

“It’s fine,” Mako says quickly. “I don’t need ice, it’s fine, they don’t hurt unless I bend them.”

“So then I’ll wrap them up,” Cass says.

“It’s fine,” Mako grits out. “Please.”

“Mako, why are you being so difficult?” Cass asks, folding their arms. “You’re hurt, I’m a doctor, let me help you.”

“I don’t need it,” Mako says, taking the ice off his nose and dropping it onto the chaise next to him. It’s going to leave a wet mark on the fine brocade and he doesn’t give a shit.

“Put the ice back on your nose, or at least on your hands if you don’t want to hold it on your face,” Cass says. “Well, you certainly caused a scene. Starting a fight at the dignitaries reception, that’s going to go down in history.”

Mako feels a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry,” he says, and puts the ice on his bruised knuckles.

“What?” Cass asks.

“I know I was _hired_ to wreak havoc, but I just got so mad,” Mako says. “You should have heard them talking about us— about you. Fuck, the shit Hieronymos was talking in the gardens on Saturday, I was surprised _Koda_ didn’t punch them. And don’t even fucking get me started on—,” He stops, and his heart sinks. “Fuck, they weren’t actually wrong, huh?”

“What?” Cass asks sharply. “Who wasn’t wrong?”

“Leto,” Mako says, eyebrows furrowing together. His heart feels like lead. “Just now, when they said I was using you. They weren’t exactly wrong, were they?”

“No,” Cass says, and it sounds like it’s been punched out of them. They kneel on the floor in front of Mako to take his hands in theirs. “Mako, no.”

“I was hired by your sibling to be your significant other,” Mako snaps. “We’ve been pretending we’ve known each other for years when it’s only been days— how is that not using you?”

“Because these have been the best three days of my entire life,” Cass says. “Mako, I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun at Thanksgiving. The last time someone asked me what my favorite color was, it was Koda back during the war. And the last time someone listened to me talk about constellations I was fourteen.” Mako stares at Cass. “You could have just come here, caused trouble, and left again, but you took the time to try and get to know me and that means the entire world to me.” They take a deep breath, and tip their head forward to rest it on Mako’s hands. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Mako sighs. “I don’t want to leave either,” he says. “I mean, I do, I hate this planet and almost everyone on it, but I don’t want to leave you—,”

An idea forms in his head. A very, very bad idea. “Huh,” he says. “What if you left.”

“What?” Cass asks, into their hands. “What do you mean?”

“What if you left?”

Cass lets out a sardonic little laugh. “Mako, every ship on this planet which could survive interstellar flight is owned by the Apokine. They'd know.”

“Not all of them,” Mako says, and swallows. “Um. My friend is here.”

“What?” Cass sits up. “Ted?”

“No, not Ted, Aria,” Mako says. “Remember the fireworks show? That was her. I didn't ask her to,” he adds quickly. “She followed me here. Just in case. I didn't know she was here until she did that. I didn't even, didn't know she was going to do those fireworks. She told me that if I needed a quick out to let her know and we could just leave.” He takes a deep breath, heart in his throat, and adds, “You could come with us.”

Cass just stares at him, without saying a word. It's stressful, so stressful that Mako's mouth starts running. “I know, I know, running away with your fake boyfriend who you just met three days ago, not a great idea, but you're clearly not happy here, and I meant everything I said to Leto earlier, you deserve so much better than what you're getting here and I may not know a lot about Apostolosian politics but I just know you're going to get trapped in a job you hate and a life you hate and I can help with that, that's, y'know, a thing I can actually help with—,”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“You're asking me to run away with you,” Cass says. “I'm saying yes.”

“Wait— wait, what?” Mako's brain is still stuck on Cass actually agreeing to this plan— this stupid, stupid plan. "What?”

“Are you just going to keep saying that?” Cass asks dryly. "This was your idea." They look suddenly confused. “Do you not want me to come?”

“No no no no no no,” Mako says, and then says no another few times just for good measure. “No, I definitely want you to come, I just wasn't expecting you to agree. Especially once it took you a second to answer.”

“I was just taken aback,” Cass says. “It's been a long time since anyone's done something for me that wasn't motivated by wanting money or a position of power.”

Mako suddenly wants to go kill a lot of people. “That's stupid,” he grumbles. “You're amazing.”

Cass blushes.

“So, we're running away?”

“Yeah,” Cass says. “I think we are.”

Mako grins. And then he blushes when Cass leans down to press their lips to his bruised knuckles.

There's a sudden crash from outside and Cass whirls upright, blocking Mako from view with their entire body. Mako lifts his own fists and skinny noodle arms and peers around Cass's legs to see what the commotion was.

“Sokrates,” Cass says, relaxing only a fraction. “You need to stop doing that.”

Sokrates steps into the room and shuts the door behind themself. “Sorry,” they say, sheepishly. “I wanted to make sure Mako was okay, and then I didn't want to ruin the moment. Again.”

“You heard that?” Mako yelps. Oh, God, there go all their plans of escape.

“Most of it,” Sokrates says. “If you're worried I'm going to stop you, I'm not.”

“Wait, really?” Mako says, at the same time that Cass says, “You're not?”

“No,” Sokrates says. “I know things have been rough since the war. With Euanthe being the heir and all of my,” they wince, “ _drama_ , we haven't had a lot of time to be real siblings. We just didn't want to fuck things up for you any more than we had to. I know all of this was fake, but you've looked happier in the last two days than I've remembered seeing you in a long time.”

Cass turns to look at Mako, and their expression is so open Mako has no idea how he never noticed it before. Maybe he's just figured out how to read the changes in Cass's expressions. “Yeah,” they say.

“You should go,” Sokrates says. “And you should go soon, before the patrols pick up for the night.”

“You're right,” Cass says. Mako scrambles for his bag and starts digging through it to make sure he's got everything. “Will they think I've been kidnapped if we leave like this?”

“I'll make sure they don't,” Sokrates says grimly. “Be sure to contact me when you reach Counterweight.”

“I will,” Cass says. There's a pause. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Sokrates says. “Mako.”

Mako twists up and around to look at Sokrates, who's grinning lazily at him. “Yeah?”

“Take care of Cassander for me,” Sokrates says.

“Of course,” Mako says. “Why do you think I punched Leto in the face?”

Sokrates nods. “Good,” they say. “Good luck.”

They leave, closing the door quietly behind them. Mako glances at Cass and then back down at his bag, passing over his shirts and shorts and the Ring of Saturn before finding a blue hoodie and yanking it on over his sweater. When he looks up again, Cass is rifling through their closet, throwing things haphazardly into a bag that they’ve kicked towards the bed.

“I think you’ll really like Aria,” Mako says, to fill the silence. “And AuDy, maybe. I dunno. AuDy can take time to get used to, but they’re pretty cool. Aria’s just great, though.”

“I’m sure I’ll love them,” Cass says, pulling out a black coat with a hood and sweeping it on over their top. “You’re sure they’re not going to mind an extra passenger?”

“Psh,” Mako says. “It’ll be fine. Besides, you know way more about doctor stuff than any of us do. No matter what you’ll be appreciated for a while at least.”

Cass turns around, and Mako hates his life because even when they’re about to run away from home and from royal life Cass still looks like a goddamn model. Mako desperately wants to kiss them again, or wrangle them down onto their bed since he’s probably never going to be able to sleep in a bed that comfortable or large ever again in his life, let alone sleep with a scion in what may very well be their childhood bed, but they don’t have time. “Okay,” he says, and sends a message to Aria that basically says _come as close as you can to the back of the palace, bringing hot doctor, love and kisses._ “How do we get out of here?”

“The back garden,” Cass says. “The wall ends back there, they figure the labyrinthian gardens are enough to trip people up from getting into the palace itself.” Mako gets a ping and Aria’s reply is just a series of question marks, exclamation points, and little kiss emojis; Mako sends her a winky face and logs out of the mesh for the first time in about five years. “They send a guard through there every hour or so, but I know the best ways to avoid them.”

“Used to sneak out to go to cool kid parties, huh?” Mako asks, grinning.

“Snuck out to go to the beach, mostly,” Cass says, “but sometimes someone was having a bonfire down there, yeah. Come on. Let’s go.”

Cass’s rooms are on the second floor, but it’s not difficult to slip down the stairs and out a back window into the darkness of the garden. “Please tell me you know the labyrinth and we’re not about to get lost in there,” Mako says, eyeing the dark outlines of hedges nervously.

“Euanthe and Sokrates and I used to play hide and seek in here,” Cass says, running one hand along the wall of the hedge. “Don’t worry. I know it like the back of my hand. And if we do make a wrong turn, well,” and they hold up a ball of dark green yarn.

“What?”

“Remind me to tell you the story of the person who first constructed a labyrinth,” Cass says, and takes Mako’s uninjured hand. “Tread carefully, and don’t let go of my hand.”

“Aye, aye,” Mako says, and they venture into the maze.

In the darkness, the labyrinth is dizzying. Twice Mako has to whisper for Cass to stop so he can get his head on straight again, and the third time Cass asks if he just wants them to carry him, which makes Mako blush and oh, shit, now he’s glowing a little bit, so he quickly shakes his head no and says, “We can keep going.”

But they move quickly. Cass doesn’t make a single wrong turn, unraveling the string behind them as they go; Mako can’t even see it where it blends into the dark green of the ground. “Is that safe?” he whispers.

“Someone always comes and picks it up if they see one of us has left it,” Cass whispers back. “As long as we aren’t caught they won’t see this any differently than any other time one of us has snuck out in the middle of the night.”

They’re just about near the edge of the maze when a sudden light swings across the hedge and Cass whispers, “Shit,” and yanks Mako behind a thick hedge that’s almost the density of a wall, earning a bag in the gut for their trouble. As they crouch, Mako accidentally leans too hard on a twig, and the sound of it snaps like gunfire in the air. Cass slaps a hand over Mako’s mouth before he can curse, but the damage is done.

“What!” calls a voice, an unfamiliar voice. A guard. “Who’s there?” Mako buries his face in his hands. Fuck.

There is a long, long pause, where Cass holds their breath and Mako resists the urge to lick their palm and there’s a moment where Mako thinks they actually might be safe. But then the guard calls, “Who’s there?” again, and Mako looks at Cass, who’s looking back with dismay in their eyes.

Mako sighs and is just about to stand up when he hears another voice call, “Sorry! It’s just me.”

Mako peeks over the wall in time to see the guard snap to attention. “Defender, er, apologies.”

“No need,” Euanthe says, stepping into view in a long black gown. “I must have been sleepwalking again. You’re doing your job admirably.”

“Thank you, Defender.”

“Would you mind escorting me back to my rooms?” Euanthe says. “I’m sure there’s no one else out here. You can afford to leave this place unguarded for a moment.”

Mako almost gasps but doesn’t, looking over at Cass again. Their eyes are glassy.

“Er, of course, Defender,” the guard says, and they look a little blushy but they offer their arm to Euanthe, who takes it and leads the guard in the opposite direction. Cass removes their hand from his mouth

“How did they know?” Mako whispers.

“Sokrates must have told them to keep an eye on us,” Cass replies, looking stunned. “If they did that…” They shake their head. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

Mako watches until the guard and Euanthe are out of sight and the light has faded, and then he flips his visor down and says, “Let’s go.”

They slip out from behind the hedge and skirt around the edge of the maze. Mako reaches back for Cass’s hand to make sure he doesn’t lose them; when Cass takes it they tangle their fingers together and hold on tight.

They emerge from the labyrinth and find themselves faced with an immense wall; Cass had said it wasn’t surrounding the whole palace but in the dark Mako can’t see the ends of the wall, and it’s very tall. Their stomach sinks a little bit.

“I have no idea how they’re going to hide the ship,” Mako says softly. “It’s not a small ship, it holds Aria’s mech most of the time and— what the fuck.”

There’s a tiny pink light blinking frantically from the other side of the wall. Mako squints at it, trying to see if he can make out a source, and gasps when he spots the outline of the Kingdom Come sitting on top of a hill just beyond the wall.

“There!” he whispers. “Come on!”

“We still have to get around the wall,” Cass asks, but they don’t resist when Mako pulls on their hand.

Mako switches his vision to the mesh, trying to spot a weak point in the stonework. “Man, Apostolosian architects know their shit, huh,” he says. “Build a wall that doesn’t even go all the way around a palace, and I don’t care what you say but a labyrinth is not really a solid line of defense, and then you can’t even find a way around it except by going around it or—,” He gasps. “The Ring of Saturn!”

“What?”

Mako scrambles for his bag, rummaging around inside it. “Long story short I put me and AuDy in debt once because I tried to buy a hoverboard and got conned into buying like thirty robots, but I got the hoverboard and I forgot about it.” It’s also a little bit bright but if Mako drops his jacket over it and uses the mesh to navigate it should be fine. He hops on and pulls Cass up to stand behind him. “You might want to hold on.”

Cass sighs and wraps their arms around Mako’s waist. “Is this safe?”

“Probably not. Hold on tight, we’re about to scale a fuckin’ wall.” With that Mako kicks off and they soar up and over the wall. Cass yelps and clings tighter to Mako as they zoom in the direction of the blinking pink light.

“Okay, so, AuDy hates it when I use this inside, so we’re going to have to get off and run the rest of the way,” Mako calls back, just as a light illuminates. “Shit. I think we’ve been spotted.”

“What?” Cass says, and Mako gets hit in the side of the face as Cass tries to yank their hood tighter over their face.

“Never mind we’re going to just take this right into the ship be careful watch your head—,” Mako says, and ducks as a beam of light flies over his head. “I hope Aria got some chameleon shit on the ship—,”

Out of the corner of his eye Mako spots a sliver of light appear and grow wider and wider. “Hang on!” he whispers, and makes a sharp turn, bag swing back to slam into Cass’s side, and then they’re zooming into the ship and Mako kicks the Ring of Saturn off and yells, “Aria, get us the hell out of here!”

The ship roars. Cass’s arms leave Mako’s waist as they climb off the Ring of Saturn and promptly topple over as the ship lurches upwards. Mako doesn’t hop off the Ring of Saturn as much as he falls off, rolling onto the ground so his face squishes into the metal grate. The door to the outside shuts just as Mako begins to hear the shouts of guards, and then they’re on the Kingdom Come and it’s flying away.

Mako pushes himself into a sitting position and looks at Cass, still lying on their back on the metal of the hallway. Slowly, Mako starts laughing. Cass looks over at him with a quizzical expression and Mako just laughs harder.

“Well, they sure aren't letting me back now,” Mako chokes, and Cass snorts and starts laughing too.

The ship suddenly lurches right and Mako almost overbalances. “Ugh,” Cass says. “It's been so long since I've been on a spaceship that I forgot how it feels.”

“Welcome to the Kingdom Come!” calls a voice from somewhere above them. Mako looks up to see Aria on the stairs above them, wearing her best blue jacket and hair curling around her ears. She's clearly pulled out all the stops to impress Cass, which is impressive given that she’s only know Mako was bringing a passenger for about forty minutes. “Stay sharp, my loves, it'll take a moment for us to break through the atmosphere. You might want to find something or someone,” she winks, “to hold onto.”

It's at that moment that the ship rolls, throwing Mako into the wall. “If you're here then who's flying the ship?” he asks.

“AuDy is,” Aria says, gripping onto the handrail with all the poise of a pop idol. “I told you they were here, right? They wouldn't let me take the ship by myself.”

Mako rolls so he's facing in the direction of the cockpit and yells, “AuDy, do you have to jerk us around so much?”

“I am doing my best,” their voice says, faint. “Apostolos has a very thick atmosphere. It is difficult to escape it.”

“You're doing great, buddy!” Mako calls. As if in answer the ship rolls again, sending him careening into Cass, who's just made their way to their feet and is promptly knocked off balance again, sending them crashing into the opposite hallway wall.

“Best to stay down until we're clear,” Aria says, with a laugh. “And then we won't have gravity so there'll be no way for anyone to stay down unless they're tied down. I'm going to go try and help AuDy!”

She runs up the stairs and into the cockpit. Mako twists his body until he's stretched out next to Cass, lying on their back on the metal grating, grinning over at him. Cass turns until they're on their side, looking down at Mako with an astounded expression.

“Soooooo,” Mako says. “Any chance you might want to get shitty market dinner with me when we get to Counterweight?”

Cass laughs and reaches down to brush a bit of Mako's hair out of his face. “It's a date,” they reply.

**Author's Note:**

> and then the chime has many adventures together and don't get caught up in a conspiracy and occasionally apostolosians come to try and "rescue" cass and they have to be like "uhhhhhh no you've got this backward??? YOU'RE kidnapping ME???"
> 
> you can come say hi and prompt me things on [tumblr](http://citadelofswords.tumblr.com) or just [follow me on twitter](http://twitter.com/citadelofswords) for more ridiculous fatt nonsense and yelling about apostolosian fashion


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